


And I will bloom here in my room

by scorpio (gradually)



Series: novembre, et d'autres choses qui me manquent [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M, Trans Character, back at it again at krispy kreme, background fin/munch, background rollivia, i looked up the hanky code for an hour for no reason, i tried to make this canon compliant and GAVE UP, platonic olivia/barba, shoutout to google
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 00:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gradually/pseuds/scorpio
Summary: reuploaded because ao3 decided that emojis are BAD - also updated because im BAD at grammar and formattingAnd i am sure that my wounds will heal, and i will bloom here in my roomWith a little water and a little bit of sunlightcompanion piece to “and its you, and you are standing in the doorway.” rafael and nicolas are in a long-distance relationship, and amaro comes to visit since the first time he left svu. slightly canon-divergent (dodds never died and rollins is not pregnant). (cw for sex!!! Theres Definitely A Sex Here)





	And I will bloom here in my room

**Author's Note:**

> *hi im back back back again!! This fic is almost double the first one, lmao oops! I could probably continue writing this forever but i am submitting it into the Internet... all grammar/comprehensibility mistakes are my bad
> 
> *this fic picks up right where the other left off! Its not 100% needed to read the companion piece but if u do id appreciate that!! 
> 
> *also, i forgot to note but the companion piece to this was beta’d by my bff manolo :3 thx again my pal!! Ilu!!  
> and a HUGE shoutout to rosehips for being the best person to yell at about svu... and for showing me memes... and being my beta... Friendship :,)

 

The first person Rafael Barba came out to was a counselor, during his first semester at Harvard University.

The day of the appointment, he shuffled his way into the small, dimly-lit waiting room, and waited for his name to be called from behind a frosted glass partition. It was so late into the semester that the sun was already setting at 5 PM. He was called into a back office full of fidget toys and motivational posters half an hour later. When asked why he had made an appointment, he hesitated and gathered the words. Rafael Barba had a flair for the dramatic and he simply said “because now that I’m in college and see handsome men everywhere, I have realized my family will never accept me if I decide to bring one home.”

The feeling of vocalizing that confession, abrupt and earnest, still, left his body in the form of anxiety, heat, radiating through his body, his breath shortening. Rafael had done everything to get to Harvard and this would be his only livelihood. The crushing fact that he would never be happy came to him in the form of a panic attack. The counselor didn’t understand at first -- then she understood all too quickly, realized what the name of the intake form was -- and sent him out of the office, leaving them with a sheet that said “gender therapist.” Rafael ignored the desk worker asking if he wanted to make a follow-up appointment.

He had never had to tell his mom - sometime between Thanksgiving break and Christmas break she just _realized_ and got him a tie and nice socks, called him Rafael, asked him if there was a special girl in his life. His mom always did her best in the absence of his father. Her experience at the middle school had taught her enough about the experiences of trans youth, enough to allow her to love him unconditionally. He and his mom had always been in sync, in motion together, even through the trauma of losing Rafael’s grandmother.

Then it was Detective -- now Lieutenant -- Benson. It was a week after Nicolas’ case, weeks after he had been called _maricon_ in the margins of the conversations of Nicolas Sr.;  He turned to her both parts confidant and close friends to unpack the case, as they had done many time before. Olivia just nodded, put a hand on his shoulder, and they talked about life over late-night coffee at Benson’s apartment. Rafael’s deadname had slipped, but when he said it, it was almost as if it was the name of someone he had never known. Some girl he knew in high school -- outside looking in.

The third person Rafael Barba came out to was Nick Amaro over the phone one night in August.

They had been talking regularly for what seemed like ages.The resentment that Nicolas had first had towards Rafael healed over time, the anger he held for Rafael making him cut ties with his family in _court_ of all places. The pain blossomed into an uneasy friendship that gained its footing in long phone calls and equally long letters.

The sun stretched across the sky endlessly and refused to set. Cicadas refused to shut up. Sometimes, when Rafael woke up way too early, he could feel the September wind approaching. Rafael confessed: it was gradual, a hint -- pause -- _oh_ \-- and then a torrent of questions in response that he was surprisingly okay with answering. He had done it this way as a preventative measure, knew that trans panic didn’t have weight over the phone, knew the distance would protect him. The thought of Nick’s father calling him a _gentleman in suspenders_ still bit him years later -- Rafael did not want to make the mistake of dating the younger Nicolas without knowing if he and his father had casual transphobia in common.

That same night, Rafael had told Nicolas he was also into men, one as a huge hint that he was into Nick, two to help Nicolas himself come out. Which Nick did, one month later -- he had told Maria and Benson first -- and then he and Rafael were dating by the end of the year. Amazing how things worked out sometimes, Rafael thought. _Amazing how one day I’ll finally have someone to bring home to my mother._

(When he closed his eyes and got deep into worries at 2am he could see the anger and revulsion Nicolas’ family had at him when he took the stand against his own father. Had they known, like Rafael had, in the long glances Nick had, the difficulty to verbalize it? The silence surrounding the is-he-isn’t he? Nick had always had the pressure of machismo on his back as the only boy in his family, as the only one who had the expectation of being a Real Man thrust upon him. Nick told Rafael whenever he broke down how much the pressure had been, how much he had hurt himself and others by hiding it, how much he wanted to make it better and be _okay_ with his part of himself.)

 

* * *

 

“Missed you.”

It was hours after Nick’s plane had touched down, hours after they awkwardly embraced and held hands in the taxi, hours after dinner and a movie and catching up on all the kisses they had missed. Rafael was tangled up in Nick’s grasp, somehow in his pajamas, and he was absolutely exhausted. Rafael just wanted to melt sometimes. He just wanted to be taken care of instead of the one having to provide the care, the anger, the power to strike fear in the heart of a rapist. Somedays he just wanted an _easy fucking case_ but he knew it wasn’t fair to ask that of anyone but God. Nick was here, and Rafael felt like he _was_ melting, in a good way, in a warm way, in a back-massage-after-6-months way. In the back of his mind he realized this must have been uncomfortable for Amaro, who was idly running his hand through Rafael’s hair.

“I just like knowing you’re real, is all. Let me know if your arm falls asleep.”

It did, but Nick couldn’t possibly dare bother Rafael, finally at peace after a long day. The death threats, the stress of finding days to take off, of helping his mother process grief, it all wore heavy on the Counselor. Rafael would never admit it to Nick, but he also never noticed that Amaro could pick up on his stressors. When he was having a particularly bad day he would close off, shut down, more capable of wallowing in his own self-pity than of finding the faraway words to verbalize everything going on. The silences that floated off in the office, trying to figure out what exactly was going on with him -- not until he asked Olivia if he still needed to fill out disclosure agreements if Nick was no longer at SVU. Everyone took it easier on him after that - much to Rafael’s frustration. They saw his stress multiplying into itself and Rafael wish they had never known and treated him as they always had. He had a troubled relationship with asking for help.

 

* * *

 

The first thing he did when he woke up was, surprisingly, laugh. Rafael was having trouble realizing that this happy dream of his was a lot more than just a happy dream. Sunlight peeked through his sky-blue curtains and painted patterns on Amaro’s face, who he was very much spooning with, and who definitely drooled in his sleep. He laughed even though Amaro snored in his sleep and had his arm trapped under him. Rafael fell back asleep, into the midst of another stress dream, was only shaken out of it by Nick pressing sleepy kisses to his forehead asking for coffee and food.

Rafael was somehow able to take his arm back and crawled out of bed to prepare them both coffee. For once, Rafael’s life did not revolve around his wristwatch ticking down to his next stressor. He indulged himself and added lavender to his own coffee. Rafael caught himself humming to himself as he prepared a second cup for Amaro just how he liked it -- all cream, no sugar -- and set to making toast. There was a trail of clothing from the chair (Amaro’s hoodie) to the door of his bedroom (his socks) leading up to the bed (his blazer). He took to picking up the stray clothes and dumped them all on top of Amaro’s unopened suitcase. The other man didn’t even stir.

Looking in the bedroom mirror, Rafael’s hand drifted across the two L-shaped scars on his chest. Nick... Nick didn’t mind. It’s not that he didn’t mind, it’s that Nick -- accepted it? Rafael scrambled for the words in his head to explain Amaro pressing a gentle kiss to each scar, telling him how handsome he was _no matter what_ in the clumsy way Amaro was about feelings. Rafael scrambled for the words to explain love through a gentle kiss and a slow, knowing nod. Amaro was sleeping his right side now and drooling all over Rafael’s pillow, cuddling up with a blanket in the absence of the other man. As if on cue, his phone vibrated with a multitude of messages from Olivia.

 

_Incoming text: from Olivia_

Howd it go? ;)

 

_Incoming text: from Olivia_

Gijdskfjghkjskldsgj;sufyuitre6789ssss;oe9w08r3204923-049-209- 0293-0 9hEWWOWO hwwo

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

Sorry noah

 

_Outgoing text: to Olivia_

It went well. :)

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

Well? Cmon rafael i need details

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

I told u about rollins its only fair

 

_Outgoing text: to Olivia_

Nothing happened... yet. We were both way too tired.

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

Ok but still!!! Celebrations are in order!!! What do you want the cake to say for tonight, im thinking “here come that boi!!” or how about “nick amaro is back and hes here to eat ass”

 

_Outgoing text: to Olivia_

Olivia he doesn’t eat ass. Pick something family-friendly and I’ll see you at 6PM.

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

Ur honor u dont know that yet id like to file uhhhh fuck i need carisi here for this joke

 

Rafael could only imagine Olivia’s childish laughter as she sent that last text. Maybe Rollins was there too, looking over Olivia’s shoulder, rolling her eyes at the older woman as usual. He was just glad to see them both happy again, even if it was at the expense of some tasteless jokes about himself and Nick. Although he had to admit they were a little funny. Barba’s phone rang sometime between his first and second cup of coffee -- his mom.

Nick shuffled into the kitchen shortly after the conversation had wrapped up.

( _-todo bien?_

_-si, ama. Nomas aqui haciendo de almorzar._

_-que bueno. Come bien. Y cuando puedo ver a tu novio?_

_-manaña, no?_

_-si, si. No mas queria ver si se te olvido. Pero ya veo que no, jaja._ )

He looked over to see Nick in nothing but his boxers and one of Barba’s old Harvard crewnecks. A wave of affection, possessiveness, and schoolgirlish embarrassment washed over him.

“Buenos dias, cielo,” Nick greeted him, the same way that he had over the phone for so many days, only this time with a very real and very long kiss. “Te extrañe.”

“Y como extrañarme si estoy aquí?”

Nick laughed at the gentle question. Rafael’s demeanor outside of the courtroom was still blunt, but behind it all and in pajamas, here with Nick, setting two plates on the table, it was soft and comforting and warm. Nick was still shy when it came to love and attention, his face reddening as he remembered the incredibly domestic conversation they had had last night about having _a future together_. Rafael either didn’t recognize or ignored Nick’s embarrassment, opting to instead reach over the table to squeeze his hand. They finished breakfast in comfortable silence, the only sound the slow sound of a spring shower morphing into a spring thunderstorm.

They ended up in Rafael’s room, food long discarded on the kitchen table, a fresh trail of clothing following them there. Rafael himself was down to his boxers, but Amaro still had the sweater on, although he was in the process of trying to take it off while kissing Barba simultaneously.

Barba pushed back a bit, trying to get some air, and Amaro moved to run his hands through their hair instead. Nick looked on the verge of well-fucked, his lips bruised and mouth open slightly. Rafael laughed at the fact that the other man wouldn’t let go, not even to shimmy off the rest of his sweater - so he did it for him, grabbing his ass roughly as he returned to kissing him. Nick arched his back, gasped, but refused to admit a moan passed his lips until Rafael grabbed again, running his hand from the divot in Nick’s back to the backside of his thigh and back until Nick bit Barba on the shoulder; a beg unsaid.

“Te gusta, no, Nicolas? Dime. Te quiero escuchar, amor.”

Of course they had talked before about sex, and what they preferred, and what they wanted. None of that conversation could translate the pure _heat_ Rafael felt when he pinned Nick down and felt him squirm under him. Rafael arched his back almost involuntarily, letting a moan escape, felt Nick’s grip tighten on his hips. It was all a blur and happening so slowly all at once. Barba drank in the attention Amaro was providing him, memorized the sweet nothings he was whispering into his ear when he pressed their chests close and grabbed Rafael’s ass. This time it was Rafael’s turn to supress a moan as Nicolas tugged at his hair.

“Ya tu sabes que si, Rafi. You drive me mad.”

“Nicolas,” Rafael groaned, grinding up against the other man. “I want to ride your face so fucking bad.”

“Be my guest,” Nicolas laughed, and Rafael could not believe the audacity of his laughter, and kissed him _hard_ , sucking on his tongue and lower lip, before biting gently and doing exactly what he had wanted for so long.

 

* * *

 

6 o’clock arrived with more thunder and lightning punctuating the space between minutes and hours. Carisi and Rollins arrived first, since they were the ones who proposed the whole thing, and Barba gave them free reign on his kitchen as he cleaned up around the house. He couldn’t thank the duo enough for making it not incredibly awkward that the first time they had seen Nicolas in almost a year was at Rafael’s house and with a conspicuous bruise on his neck that wouldn’t hide under his buttoned-up shirt.

Next was Olivia, with Noah in tow, and Noah’s backpack full of toys. Nicolas mentioned in passing to Rafael it reminded him of Zara at Noah’s age - always wanting to move onto the next distraction. Rafael’s nervous pacing was calmed by the Lieutenant’s presence and the calming, steadying eye contact they both made. Barba did what he always did when he was nervous and offered everyone alcohol and/or coffee. Nick was the only person with the lack of responsibility to get drunk, but Carisi took him up on some fancy coffee he had bought the last time they all gathered like this. He tried to ignore that it was for Nick’s going-away party.

Around a quarter to seven Fin and Munch arrived, followed by Dodds, who had had to pick them up when their taxi never arrived. Munch was grumbling about how that stuff _never worked_ while Fin took Rafael up on the alcohol/coffee offer. Dodds, always the straight-laced one, had a cup of coffee with no cream but a surprising amount of sugar.

With the guests part and the dinner part of their dinner party both in order, Rafael let himself fully relax. He looked around and saw Nicolas floating between a conversation, sitting between Liv and Rollins on the couch, who were so animated they almost forgot Amaro was between them. Carisi began to put out plates and everyone shuffled around to grab one, sitting across the living room and precariously balancing dinner on their legs. It was loud, but a good loud, full of voices and laughter and Noah yelling once in awhile when he made a tower of blocks fall.

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

I can tell he likes u!!!

 

_Outgoing text to Olivia_

What an astute observation. I would have never known.

 

_Outgoing text to Olivia_

:P

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

Rollins says “what the fuck did you do to Amaro’s neck dude”

 

_Incoming text from Olivia_

B)

 

Rafael glanced to his screen, and back to Olivia and Rollins, and laughed. They were all home. Home. He let the thought of home roll over in his mind, settle into the wrinkles of his memory. The whole squad was here, sitting and laughing and chatting. As the night drew on and the rain grew heavier they all had to depart, first Carisi, then Munch and Fin, then Dodds. Munch had laughed at Carisi adjusting his tie in the mirror, set to go on some kind of blind date. Benson had begun to help Rafael wash dishes in between individuals departing, and Amaro and Rollins were watching some shitty reality TV show. Nicolas had a talent for keeping Noah from getting fussy and held him in his lap while he discussed the ins and outs of some challenge in the show with Amanda. She was rooting for the opposite team, and Rafael laughed at the way their competitive sides shone through. Liv looked over, mainly to gesture at Barba that she needed the sponge he was so intent on holding, and looked over to where he was looking. She nudged him gently, laughing silently in the way they both knew, no words passed between them - just the look of “you’re a good pair,” almost as if she was saying it in her Serious Tone when her voice got quieter than usual.

“Y’know, Liv, you never got us a cake.” Rafael knew it would trigger the response of three very upset individuals who were all always down for a slice of cake, and he also knew Olivia was already plotting how to get back at him.

“The cake shop wouldn’t accept my genius captions,” She laughed. “Turns out you can’t put outdated memes _or_ sex jokes on cakes.” Rafael conceded at that, knowing Nick would later ask him what exactly she has meant as they laid in bed together, legs tangled.

 

* * *

 

Later, legs tangled in bed, Nick did ask him about the cake joke, and Rafael decided to shush him -- for now, because he knew Nick would bring it up in the morning -- with a kiss. Rafael continued, pressing a kiss to his chin and temple and all over Nick’s face, who then grabbed Rafael at the waist, fingers rubbing in at bruises leftover. Nicolas pressed his mouth to Rafael's bottom lip before biting at it, a signal, a chance to move back before Amaro tried to french kiss him. Rafael didn’t move, and Nick continued, softly as ever. Rain came in waves outside and the only sound in Rafael’s room was the sound of their kissing. “Love you,” Rafael mumbled, in-between breaths. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too, Rafael,” Nick whispered, pressing a kiss to Barba’s forehead.

In the silence between them, Rafael thought about home. He concluded that it was in Nicolas’ arms.

 


End file.
